The white jade bone hairpin is broken, and the prison clothes are stained with blood. Shen Lingwei died in the cold winter of the 15th year of Yong'an. When the poisonous wine penetrated her intestines, she saw her husband Gu Yanqing standing by and watching, while Shen Lingwan, whom she regarded as her own sister, was wearing the phoenix crown and harem that should have belonged to her, laughing at her ruined reputation.
As soon as I opened my eyes, I returned to Yong'an for seven years. The rockery has not fallen, her mother is still there, Shen Lingyuan's fangs are still hidden in her gentle smile, and Gu Yanqing is not the Marquis of Zhenbei who made her irrecoverable.
The broken jade hairpin held tightly in the palm of my hand is a memory of my mother and a proof of her rebirth.
In this life, she put away her infatuation and hid her innocence.
Shen Lingwan's mask of hypocrisy? Tear it up with your own hands!
Gu Yanqing's hypocrisy? No need to act again!
Those who owe her blood debts must be recovered with interest; those who protect her and love her must protect her with their lives.
But when she was taking steps to stay away from the quagmire of her previous life, the man who was supposed to be her "enemy" frequently appeared in front of her, with a depth in his eyes that she couldn't understand.
Shen Ling sneered slightly: "Master Gu Xiaohou, the accounts from the previous life have not yet been settled. In this life, please don't dwell on it again."
But the man took her hand, placed the broken hairpin in her palm, and said in a low voice, "I have been keeping the intact jade hairpin."
